


Chapter, Verse

by WeOffendedShadows



Category: Avengers, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: AU: Angels, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Other, Religion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-28
Updated: 2013-06-28
Packaged: 2017-12-16 11:43:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/861598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeOffendedShadows/pseuds/WeOffendedShadows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Steve Rogers' is a man in only the physical sense, and his arrival on Earth is nothing of note or important. Until his family, the ones who had left him over three hundred human cycles earlier, showed him that maybe it was more than he had originally believed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chapter, Verse

"I've been looking for you," Steve Rogers said. Or at least, the body that was Steve Rogers said. Housed within the physical form of concept was a being, light, justice, and power, who had come down as ordered by Father to ensure that things were done as they were supposed to. Five of them had disappeared. Five of the most powerful, the most dangerous of them, were no longer able to found with any sort of means other than mortal. "it wasn't easy."

"Of course not, blondie," a voice said from underneath the beat up horseless carriage. "The point of hiding is not to be found."

"Gabriel-"

"Tony," the man said. He slide out from underneath covered in grime and processed oil. His brother looked nothing like he had expected. Somehow, he had found a physical form without a need for a host. The physical form he had found was a male human of rather short stature, Caucasian was the term used these day, Steve believed. Facial hair in a strange semi cut beard, with deep earth tinged hair and sandy eyes. "I go by Tony these days. Name's on the door, didn't you see when you walked in."

He scoffed at his brother. "You should come home."

'Tony' sat up and glared him. "Why?"

"Father requests it."

"Of course," 'Tony' replied. "If Father speaks it, so it must be done. Why are you really here..." he trailed off and waved his named. "I don't even know what to call you."

"My name is Michael," he said.

"Not in that form," Tony stood up slowly, "We are not limited any more, so don't act like it."

"No, in this," he spat out the word, "suit, I am far more limited and hindered than He can imagine. I feel confined within the bounds of this skin and muscle. How can you stand it?'

'Tony' shrugged at him. He turned away and picked up a dirty rag to wipe his hands clean. The room is filled with a smell. "Then indulge me."

He glared at his brother, hoping to gain at least some sense of reason but 'Tony' just smirked at him, as though the entire sitaution was a joke. "This body was once known as Steven Rogers."

"The name's familiar," 'Tony' said, "but I like it. It suits you."

"The name or the body?"

"Yes?" he smirked again before turning his back and began to clean up his tools. "Now that we've established a name, I suppose you're here to ask me to come home."

"Brother," 'Steve' said, "I-"

"Do you know the reason you came to me first, Steve," 'Tony' continued, "I know I wasn't the easiest to find. You probably have all of our locations in that little brief case of yours. I bet that you considered finding Uriel first, or even Raziel, yes?"

It was true; 'Steve' had located all of them, or at least the general areas: towns, cities, states. Some easier to find than others. But 'Tony' was the hardest to locate. He had disappeared first, and did it so well, the others could have only dreamed to emulate him. And it was hundreds of human cycles before Ezekiel even considered leaving. Before they all left him.

"I don't see how that is relevant," 'Steve' replied.

"It is," 'Tony' said. "when you figure out why it's important, then you'll know why I left. Or at least part of it."

"You fell because of your foolish pride, just like-"

'Tony' stood inches from his body, glaring up at 'Steve'. oil and dust filled his nostrils, along with a scent that he could only describe as Gabriel-lite, an idea of his brother whom he hadn't had contact with in a long time. "How dare you," 'Tony' growled, his voice shaking while the body stood perfectly still. "how dare you compare me and what I have gone through with him. I did not go against Father, I did not go against you, or anyone. I left for my own reasons, I left because I needed it. Pride may be my sin, but it is not my downfall. I left-"

"You left me," 'Steve' said, and squeezed the handle of his briefcase, feeling the leather and wood warp under his touch.

The light that was Gabriel died in the physical eyes of 'Tony', 'Steve' was sure of it. He watched as all energy, all anger out of 'Tony', his shoulders slacken, his hands loosen, even turn back to his tools and his shop. "Leave me be, brother," 'Tony' said. "Peddle your war mongering somewhere else. My reasons for leaving have not changed, nor do I intended compromise on them."

Metal grated against rubber and metal, shoved about with as little force as 'Tony' could muster. "Gab-'Tony', I am not looking for-"

"The only reason I have seen you in the past three hundred and twelve years, sixty two days, thirteen hours and five minutes were the three times you came to ask me to come home, to return as in my rightful place and be the glory that I was." 'Steve' had no words, they dissolved as their history within the human realm was returned to him. Thrice, he had descended from heaven, seeking his brother and asking for his return, all within the first ten cycles. After the third rejection, he could bear it no longer and returned with the intention of never seeing his brother again. Only to watch as the reason of his family disappeared into the human realm as well. "So don't lie to me and say it's because you wanted to see me. You had all that time just to visit, to check in on your little brother. To make sure that I was okay. Even if you disagreed, it would have been nothing for you to come down and see me. So don't you dare say that this isn't some plot to get me to come home. To use me again. Don't you dare."

'Steve' looked down. His chest felt heavy and his hands lost what little strength he had left in them. The body was fit, strong; why the sudden weakness? He had chosen it specifically for the strength of mental, spiritual, and physical. But his knees shook briefly, his chest was tight, and he felt a shortness of breath. Why?

The answers would not come to him, so he was left with little choice. He picked up his brief case and opened it. Flipping through the papers, he found a small business card he collected when he first arrived in the city. 'Steve' placed his brief case down and walked slowly over to his brother.

"Where I'm staying," 'Steve' said, placing it on the tool cart for his brother to find. "I do not want us to fight, brother, I have never wanted that."

"Yet, before I left, it seemed all we did was fight," 'Tony' replied.

"Your arrogance-"

"And your blind loyalty," 'Tony' finished. "Remember it takes two, 'Steve'." He paused again, before picking up the card. "St. Judes of End St."

"Yes, Reverend Coulson has offered to house me until I have determined the next step in my journey." 'Tony' said nothing, and 'Steve' stepped back. "I will be there for a couple of days before I continue on."

"Fine," 'Tony' replied. The muscles in his back, while hidden by the mechanics jump suit, were taut and firm, unbending. "I have some work to finish up here."

"I'd appreciate it if you came to lunch sometime."

"A great deal of paperwork. Need to keep a small business running."

"I won't bring up why I am here."

"Bills to pay and all that. Funny how humans need so much of it to make them happy."

"It would make me happy." 'Tony' nodded and stopped his rant. 'Steve' stood still for a moment, waiting for anyone other response, but his brother just continued to work, refusing to look him in the eye. He was sure the tool cart was perfectly organized, but 'Tony' would not move from it until he left; otherwise 'Steve' could have seen his face, and that would have been unacceptable.

The tightness in his chest worsened, and his eyes felt a bit moist. 'Steve Rogers' picked up his duffel bag and without another word, walked onto the streets of Chicago and the pouring rain that found its way there.

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, thanks to my betas, misssweetsweet and amazon-x.  
> I wrote this after viewing a series of pictures called Avenging Angels, and dealt with the avengers with angelic form and some religious iconography. It was a fun thought experiment, and I might continue it, might not, but it is interesting to think of beings who are not human trying to pass as human, and how they deal with human emotion, and whether or not they can. In all honesty, I have no idea where this is going, or what it is going to entail. Just that the ride will be fun and I'll enjoy writing it along the way. Hopefully, you'll enjoy it too.
> 
> This does have religious references, so be warned.


End file.
